


Who I Really Am

by tigereyes45



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2018-11-03 08:58:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10963956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigereyes45/pseuds/tigereyes45
Summary: Grif returns just in time to see Simmons lying on the ground. In the desert. How he was still alive is something Grif wonders only for a moment after the man groans. Of course he was. Since when did any of them die besides Church?





	1. Returns

He looks up to see a hand in his face. Palm up as if in offer to help him stand, but that would be impossible. The person that hand belonged to he knew would not be here. Not now. They left. They quit. They quitted him. Slowly he lets out a groan and rests his head back on the floor. Now he was hallucinating about him to. Just great.

“I bet that medicine I got from Donut was expired.”

“I told you not to trust those old bottles of his. No way has he gotten anything new in years. At least nothing that he hasn’t made himself.”

That voice belonged to him as well. Could it be. Simmons head shoots up. “Are you really here?”

“Of course I am.”

“Why?” Simmons could hear his voice crack.

“Why else would I be here Simmons?”

“I-i don’t know.”

Grif sighs. “Get up.” He shakes his hand and this time Simmons accepts the offer. Grif looks him over before asking, “Where are the others?”

Simmons shakes his head to clear it. “They were, we were, uh,”

“So you all managed to lose each other again?”

“I was with Caboose when we all separated during the fight. He was shouting about something then there was an explosion and I,” Simmons looks around. “I guess I passed out.”

“You were with Caboose?”

“Yeah.” Simmons answers waiting for grif to make a joke about his poor taste in partners. Or maybe he would make one about no wonder he nearly died out here in the desert alone. 

“He may be nearby. Let's see if we can find him.” Grif releases Simmons hand and starts to stalk off. Simmons hadn’t even noticed that their hands had still been touching. Now that Grif was walking away he noticed the lack of warmth again.

“Grif! Wait up!” He jogs to catch up to the orange soldier. Was he still a soldier. He had announced his quitting in front of them all. But when does a soldier ever stop being a soldier. Really, do they ever? “Hey, how did you get here?”

“It wasn’t difficult.” He avoids answering the question directly. Grif stares ahead of them as he makes his way towards some towers off in the distance.

“But how?” Simmons presses.

Grif shakes his head. “Do you really want to hear how right now or do you want to find the others?”

“I don’t know where any of them went.  We might as well talk as we look for them, right? That’s what we usually do anyways. Or we used to.” Simmons adds the last sentence as an afterthought. Were they that different from before, now?

“I don’t really feel like talking Simmons.” Grif replies solemnly.

“But none of us have heard from you in months.” Simmons presses.

Grif stops walking. He does not move his gaze from the towers. “Listen. I’m not joining back up. I’m not going on these crazy adventures anymore. I quit and this is not me coming back. After you all left I stayed there for a couple more weeks. Then Chorus reached out to me, apparently Tucker was being hunted down by some mothers he had kids with. I hitched a ride back to blood gulch from there. I don’t know why. Maybe I just wanted to be somewhere simple again. Instead I arrived while there was a party going on at red base and my sister was leading it. Did you know she was alive?” Grif glances over his shoulder at Simmons. “I didn’t. I mean Lopez told me he had killed her and I know I told him and Washington that there was no way she was dead. Still, part of me had thought she really was gone. Seeing her again, it,” he stops. “We need to keep moving.” With that he starts walking again.

Simmons notices his suit was slightly slimmer than it had been before. He had always thought that Grif could only gain weight not lose it. Especially since he had never lost a pound in the years they had spent together. He was always eating. Always sleeping. So lazy.

“After that I stayed with her until the parties got to much. The music was too loud. The food was so small. I never got any sleep. So I said goodbye to Kai and left. At least she is having fun and doing what she does best. Extorting guys for money.”

Simmons laughs. Only when Grif didn’t say anything did he realize it hadn’t been meant as a joke. “Grif. Are you okay?”

“You guys are so easy to find. You leave evidence of yourselves everywhere. I wouldn’t be surprised if the UNSC had soldiers coming after you all right now.”

“Wouldn’t they be coming after us?” Grif had been one of them once. Now he said nothing as they walk closer. The towers were about a mile away still.

“Grif?”

“Who do you think I am?”

“What?”

“Who do you think I am, Simmons?”

That was an odd question. “You’re Dexter Grif. You’re a lazy, fat, inconsiderate, friend.” Simmons replies without missing a beat.

Grif raises his head. Maybe to look at the sky or maybe the sun. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Come on. Let's find the others.”

Suddenly Simmons feels as if he just answered a trick question. A pit in his stomach tells him that he answered it very, very wrong. Momentarily his mind wanders to the others. He hopes Sarge and Donut were okay.


	2. The Beginning of A Talk

“Grif.”

“Yeah Simmons?” Simmons could not see his face, but he imagines Grif raising an eyebrow as he looks over his shoulder.

“How much farther do you think we will have to go?” Simmons asks. It wasn’t what he was going to ask, but he was not really sure if he wanted an answer to his other question.

“I think you need to clean your glasses, because we’re here.” Grif says. His tone was not his typical laxed one. Instead he answers with an emotionless tone. Simmons looks up to see that they had, indeed, arrived. Sighing he follows Grif as the orange soldier walks through the ancient towers.

“What did you mean?” His original question tumbles out before he can stop it. His mind had been racing since Grif’s goodbye. Why had he said him specifically? He could understand why Grif would hate Sarge, or even Donut and the blues. One was always threatening him, one was annoying, and the others…..well for obvious reasons.

Grif does not even bother to ask what Simmons means. Which proves that he had obviously been thinking about it too. Or maybe he had just in the past. “Listen Simmons. I know what I said and I meant it. I know what I did and I am still not a soldier. Not anymore. I don’t think I was ever cut out to be one in the beginning, but hey ya know life happens.”

“You didn’t just quit the team Grif.” Simmons begins. He could feel his body shaking. Slowly he comes to a stop near the base of a set of stairs inside the closest tower. Grif was already halfway up them. When did he get so fast? He was staring down at him now. Simmons could almost imagine Grif’s mismatched colored eyes beneath the helmet. The same one he remembers so vividly from that time.

Grif shakes his head. His voice holds a warning as he says, “Let it go Simmons. I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“You quit Grif.” Why was this bothering him so much. Simmons was growing angry with himself. He should just drop it and let things lie where they were. Him lonely and heartbroken. Grif having finally gotten what he always wanted. A retirement. “You left the team.” He wanted to shout that Grif left him. That he had looked him dead in the face and told Simmons that he quit him. Simmons could handle Grif leaving the team. He knew eventually Grif would break and threaten to leave them all. He just never thought Grif would actually leave him.

“I know, but I’m here now. So can we,”

“But you weren’t when me met them. You weren’t there when they took Sarge. Or when they attacked Washington and Carolina after they tricked us! You abandoned us Grif!” Simmons could feel tears pricking his eyes. Never was he so thankful for the helmet. “You left me!”

“I know.” Grif wasn’t shouting. He wasn’t whispering either. His voice still held no emotions.

“Do you not care?” Simmons yells. He wanted answers. He wanted to know why. “When we arrived they all were so nice. So familiar. They had a Sarge, a Caboose, a Donut, a Church, a Tucker, and even a me. All with sweet words and promises of answers. Yet while they were sweet talking Tucker, and Caboose, and they were swaying Sarge with their weapons and Italian robot I was looking for their Grif. I was looking for the other you for surely if they had all of us then there must have been another you. One I could make fun of and talk to like I could with you. Someone who would be familiar and lazy, and never listen to orders.”

“Did you find him?” Grif was looking away now. At some point he must have turned his attention back towards their mission.

“No I didn’t. It turns out that they didn’t have one. Funny enough they never had a captain before Temple like ours blues did. They only ever had one robot kit not two. They barely even fought each other unlike we did. Yet the biggest difference was that they never had a Grif.” Simmons was looking down at the ground now.

“I guess Donuts are more common than Dexters.” Was that a joke? He wasn’t laughing. Neither of them were.

Simmons stares at him. He was waiting for him to do something. He wasn’t sure what, but he silently wishes for Grif to do something. Anything. A tense silence passes by slowly. It felt as if Simmons could feel the minutes passing them by. He had given up when Grif spoke again.

“How did Sarge do dealing with another him?”

“Incredibly well.”

“The man does have a type.” Grif mutters. He starts walking again and not another word passes between them as they search. In a fit of anger Simmons leaves to search the other structures. He was going to find the others before Grif, and then maybe the idiot would feel guilty like he should.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is short. I have already started on the next however. Honestly though watching the episodes every Sunday gives me the inspiration to write these so more then likely this story will be updated Sunday nights. Thank you for your patience.


	3. Campfire Lights

It was dark when Simmons finally could not ignore his growling stomach anymore. He voiced his complaints to Grif. His orange companion lit a fire within one of the old towers. Using a few rotten wooden planks he had found. Honestly Simmons was surprised not to hear a word of complaint from his old friend. Even more so that he had found something they could use so quickly.

“I brought some jerky with me.”

“Only jerky?” Simmons asks in disbelief.

“I had a few donuts, some m&ms, and a box of lifesavers. I only have the jerky left now.” Grif admits. This earns a laugh from Simmons. Grif sounds angry as he pushes the food towards Simmons. “Do you want some or not?”

“Sorry. Yes I do. It’s just that some things never do change.” He looks away as he lifts up his helmet to eat.

Grif stares at the fire. Simmons was not even sure if he had ate. Then again Grif could eat an entire cake in one sitting within three blinks. Still Simmons wasn’t sure, and he grew slightly worried. Not that he would say anything to the big, orange blob. Simmons readjusts his helmet after he finishes his portion of the food.

“If we split up we may be able to cover more ground.” Grif suggests.

Simmons was immediately opposed to the idea. “No. I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“Why not? You’re always going on about how to get the job done profficently. When we make it to another point of civilization if we split up we could cover more ground. Maybe find the others.” Grif explains.

“I just would rather not. I’m sure we’ll find them anyways.”

Grif shakes his head. “That’s stupid Simmons.”

“Yeah well if we split up something could happen to one of us and the other would never know.”

“If I didn’t know better I would think you just don’t want me to leave again.” grif jokes.

Simmons freezes up. Now he was making jokes? After everything Simmons had gone through while he was gone and he chooses now to make jokes. Last time they all split up to try and find others he ended up left alone in the desert! Grif left them and he thinks its funny! Simmons could feel the heat rising in his face. He was thankful his helmet was on so Grif could not see. Slowly, Simmons lets out a breath. Grif had been gone for awhile. He had been by himself while Simmons still had the others. IF anything Grif probably didn’t want to be alone either he may just be suggesting things he thought Simmons would agree with. Afterall I had kind of blew up on him at earlier. He shrugs. “Maybe I don’t.” Simmons concedes.

Grif coughs. Quickly he turns his face away from Simmons. His helmet reflecting light directly from the flames. After a moment he rubs his neck as his left hand tends to the fire. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Why not? It's dark out. Even when it becomes light enough to see ten feet in front of us that doesn’t mean we should divide and conquer. Last time we split up I lost everyone. That's why we are looking for them now, right? I just don’t think it is smart, Grif.”

“Alright Simmons then we stick together. At least for now.” Grif agrees. He returns his attention to tending the fire. For now? Then he really was going to leave again. Simmons didn’t want that.

“Grif,” He begins.

“Yeah Simmons?”

“Once we find the others are you going to leave?”

Grif remains silent.

Simmons chews on the end of his lip as he waits for some sort of response.

“I think the better question is, will you?”

“What do you mean?”

“When we find the others. If we find them, I’m pretty sure they are going to want to take off again. There’s always gonna be something else Simmons. Don’t even try to say there won’t be. Once we meet up with them and beat the crap out of those fake copies the others are gonna wanna go off. On another adventure. They’ll never be done Simmons.”

There was a noise. A sound echoing off the walls from below. Immediately Simmons was up with his weapon pointed down the stairs. He looks back around to see that Grif was gone.

“Grif?” He whispers.

No reply.

“Grif?” Simmons hisses through clenched teeth in his best whisper yell. Where did he go? Was he alright? Did he run away?

“Ow!” A yelp from below. Simmons jumps and fires one shot down the stairs.

“Hey, watch it!” Grif yells from below. A moment later the orange soldier appears coming up the stairs. Simmons saw a spot of purple as Grif pushes the captive down.

“Doc?!”

“He was sleepy in a cabinet downstairs. My guess is he woke up and saw the fire. Assumed we were someone else and tried to sneak off.”

“Doc, where are the others?” Simmons asks as urgency fills his voice.

“The others?” Doc sounded disgruntled.

“Yes the other reds and blues. Not the blues and reds. Fuck those guys.” Simmons says in a rush.

“I-i don’t know. After the fight broke out I took off. I am a pacifist afterall, and I’ve seen enough violence in my life because of you guys. I am tired of it all! I am a medic! Not a soldier!” He holds his head and curls up on his side. “I’m not a soldier. I’m not a soldier.” He mumbles as he rocks lays there. Grif looks up to Simmons, who only mirrors his look of concern beneath his helmet.

Grif was the first to move. He bends down on one knee and rubs Doc’s back. “It’s okay Doc. The fighting is done for now. Just rest. You’ll be okay.” Grif promises as he continues to try and soothe the medic. As Doc’s mutterings grew softer Grif looks back up towards Simmons. “Go ahead and sleep. I have first watch tonight.”

Simmons looks back and forth between Grif and Doc. Suddenly he wishes that was how Grif had treated him when he had been found. A back rub and words of soothing comfort instead of the harsh ones they had shared. Simmons looks away feeling a sharp cut form over his chest. “Are you sure you’ll be able to stay up?” Simmons did not sneer, or ask belittling. HIs words were hollow as he spoke now.

“Yeah. If I start to fall asleep I’ll wake you up.”

“Of course.” Simmons agrees. He turns his back to the sight of the other two men. Using his arms as the only pillow he had tonight. Simmons lets his memory slip back to that time on chorus. To how soft Grif’s chest had felt whenever they were tired. He could feel his face growing hot and he pushes the thoughts away. He is a selfish, fat-ass, who treats a backstabbing medic better than his best friend. Who cares how comfortable his chest felt? Not Simmons. That’s for sure. Simmons repeats the thoughts in his head until he manages to fall asleep. Little did he know that Grif’s thoughts were indeed in a similar place. Thoughts Grif didn’t bother to even try and push away anymore.

“I just wish that Grif was dead,” Grif begins softly.

“Put a bullet in his head.” Simmons replies still asleep. His hand tightens around his gun.

“Thought so.” Grif rests his head against the crumbling wall behind him. “No matter how much you go through with someone, or even without them some things never change.” Grif mutters looking down to see that doc was also asleep.


	4. Wake Up, Already

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a night of rest it is time to wake up. Maybe they will finally make some real progress after all.

“Time to get up.” Doc tries to wake him gently. Simmons was not so nice about it.

“Get up fatass.” He orders.

Grif rubs at his eyes sleepily. When had he fallen asleep? He couldn’t recall even feeling sleepy.

“How could you have fallen asleep like that Grif? I thought you said you would wake me!  We could have been killed!” Simmons tries to calm his breathing as he paces back and forth.

“Will you calm down? We didn’t die.” Grif states as he rolls over onto his other side.

With his back to Simmons now he could not see the maroon soldier. Somehow this caused his headache to shrink a little again. “What time is it Doc?” Grif manages to ask.

“I think it would be somewhere around noon back on Chorus. I’m not sure how time really works here compared to there.” Doc explains. He wasn’t stuttering now. Maybe he was so used to the weirdest and worst shit happening to himself whenever they were around. Grif felt bad for the guy. Only until he remembers that Simmons had mentioned he had been with the blues and reds. Then his suspicious feelings return. Gnawing once again at the very back of his mind where he did his best to keep them.

“See it isn’t too late.” Grif argues with his old partner.

“We need to find the others Grif. The sooner we move the more ground we can cover.” Simmons argues.

Grif shakes his head. Casually, taking far longer than he needed to, Grif manages to sit up. He takes even longer to stand. Purposely so that the nerves of the others were running thin. The more trouble he caused for Simmons the more he felt compensated for being woken up so early. Honestly since when did he ever get up at noon? Never, even when he was suppose to be training his squad on chorus. At earliest he would wake up at 3pm.

“Grif come on.” Simmons groans.

Grif scratches his head before looking over at Doc. The medic was standing with his back against the wall. He was slightly hunched over. As if in pain, but he made none of the whining noises he has been known for in the past. Grif quickly rules out that he was injured. Was he whispering to himself? Grif thinks he can hear faint words being murmured under his breath. Was he still hearing O’Malley’s voice in his head, or was it all him? Those would be questions he would ask the medic later. Or perhaps it will become someone else’s job. Right now he had to find the other reds and blues. Plus the strange blues and reds he had heard about. That was his current mission.

“Alright let’s go.” Grif stands. He checks to make sure his weapons were still on him. Thankfully they were.

“Which direction should we go?” Simmons asks. As if Grif knew this planet any better then he. This was the orange soldier’s first time here.

“Wouldn’t that be something for you too decide. I don’t know where anything else is on this planet.” Grif replies sarcastically. He did believe he had a point.

“Well you were plenty take charge yesterday.” Simmons barks back.

You like it when I take charge, don’t you? Is what Grif wanted to say, but he bites his tongue. Now was not the time for that. “That was because you were in no shape to make decisions and I wanted out of the sun. These towers were the closest things to us.”

“I can’t believe you! You mean to tell me that you have no clue where we are?!” Simmons was yelling now.

Grif yawns and replies lazily. “I mean, yeah. It was only luck that I found you in the first place.” He had literally been walking for six hours before he had came upon Simmons.

“I can’t believe you! You are still never prepared for anything!” Simmons was only growing angrier and Grif was becoming fed up.

“I was prepared to search this whole planet for you!” Grif finally shouts back. Grif sighs and kicks a rock at a wall. “I didn’t know what I was doing or where I was going. All I knew was that you all had come here and there had been no sign or tell of you guys anywhere else. So what else was I supposed to do Simmons? No way to contact any of you. Having any clue if you were even still here. No equipment to tell me otherwise. None of you had any of your trackers on because of course not!” Grif takes a deep breath. He is shaking as he releases it. “Maybe this was a bad idea. I just,” He pauses. Finally he face the maroons soldier again. “I needed to know where you were. If  **you** were alive, or well, not.” Grif admits.

Simmons fists fall apart.  He looks away from Grif. Apparently the ground was much more fascinating. Fuck. Grif knew he shouldn’t have said any of that, but it had slipped out.

“Guys,” Doc timidly interrupts the silence. “I know how to get back to their base from here.” That caught Simmons attention. Grif sighs. There goes yet another chance. Oh well. That was really just their luck anyways.

Grif grabs his small pack of food. He stuffs it back into his suit. Quickly, he descends down the stairs. “There ya go.” He says hoping Simmons knew it was aimed at him without Grif even turning around. “We have a direction now.” He was being bitter. Grif knew that, but honestly how else was he suppose to be? He wasn’t expecting appreciation, but for Simmons to at least finally realize. Realize what? Grif asks himself. That he had feelings for the idiot this whole time. Nah, simmons would never realize. He didn’t even want to talk about what happened after the temple was shut off. Maybe he had,

“We need to go that way.” Doc had a hand on Grif’s shoulder. Pointing off to the south of their current location. Grif didn’t really mind the interruption of his thoughts. After all they had gotten him nowhere these last few years.


	5. Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grif grows tired of Simmons mood and asks whats wrong. Clearly someone doesn't get the message that he is also mad with him. They get a bit carried away.

“So how do you know where you are going Doc?” Grif asks as he follows behind the other two.

Simmons was absolutely refusing to look at the man. Grif had noticed that ever since after this morning incident the two had not spoken a word to each other. Though he was pretty sure it was not just because of this morning. Agitated by how Simmons just seems to be upset with everyone who tries to help Grif decides to ask about it. Struggling to meet Simmons pace Grif huffs behind him until the maroon soldier turns around and stops.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Your pace.” Grif responds as he tries to catch his breath. “I’m not that quick, or fit.”

“You seemed perfectly fit yesterday. In fact you were leagues in front of me.”

“Yeah well, you had blacked out in the desert. It wasn’t hard then.” Grif adds. “Anyways,” He lowers his voice. Resting his hand on the other’s arm he begins. “What is your problem?”

“What do you mean?” Simmons asks sounding bitter.

“I mean you were acting crazy yesterday, and now Doc is leading us back to the base that you had no idea how to get back to and you won’t even look let alone talk to him.” Grif points out.

“Grif he is a  **traitor** . He was with them. Working with them. He aided in convincing the others that we could trust them. Now,” Simmons lets out a frustrated groan.

Grif bites his bottom lip. Was Simmons for real? “He is a pacifist and a medic.”

“So?”

“Maybe he didn’t know what they were really up too. Or he did and he didn’t want to take sides. I mean he has done that before.”

“Sarge, and Andrews is dead. Caboose and the others are missing. Church was never even really here.” Grif’s face falls behind his helmet. He was sure Simmons was taking notice that his body grows tense and his hand tightens around his arm. Grif immediately releases Simmons.

He doesn’t ask how. He does not even bother trying to continue their conversation and convince Simmons to go easier on the medic. He could hear the words Simmons had said to him yesterday in his mind. ‘You left the team.’ He had no right to feel sorry for things he could not fixed. No he was here for a reason, and now he was going to get the rest of them off of this planet.

“Doc.” Grif calls. The medic looks over his shoulder back to him. “How much farther?”

“We still have a bit of ways.”

“Fuck.”

“What, gonna quit again already Grif?” Simmons asks as he passes the two by. Doc twists his hands before scurrying to be in the lead again. Grif was already filled with rage, but the comment only left more pain within him. He forgot that Simmons was also mad at him. Fuck you too pal.

“That’s just low.” Grif replies. “Really thought that shit was beneath you.”

“At least I have never abandoned my friends.”

“No. You follow them as they go chasing ghosts. Maybe you all should have learned to let things go.” Grif replies.


	6. What if

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We all have our tipping points.

It took two days before they reached the other team’s lair. Doc definitely knew the way there. He even knew useless trivia about the planet’s history. Including some stories about the other team and their battles. Simmons became especially impatient during those times. For someone who ranted plenty he did not like the purple medic doing so. Grif was growing sick of all the arguing. It was almost like he was in blood gulch again. Sarge barking off commands, always demanding the blues to give up. Church always going on about how he hates everyone and they were all stupid. Not the same words, but definitely the same feeling. It was all giving him a headache. So who could blame him that as soon as they arrived he found a nice little hidey hole to get some rest in.

Probably Simmons, but no way would the maroon soldier find him. For Grif had the perfect spot. Slowly his eyelids began to fall close. Perhaps now he would have a restful sleep.

“Grif!” Of course he came looking. Grif yawns and pushes himself deeper into the small space he found between a freezer and the wall. At first he thought he would not be able to fit. Yet after pushing it just slightly farther from the wall allowed him to fit behind it in a sitting up position while concealing himself. His best plan yet. He did not even worry as Simmons shouts were being heard from the hall. So Grif allowed himself to fall solidly into sleep.

Simmons was agitated to say the least. As soon as the traitor had gotten them back to this horrible place Grif had ran off. So much for changing. Simmons had began to believe Grif was going to start taking things seriously, after some those talks of theirs. He seemed different. Instead he was sure the orange soldier had ran off to eat, or sleep somewhere.

It was his snoring that gave him away. Simmons chose to ignore the fact that it took well over six hours to find the big lug, or the fact that it was in fact because of Grif’s snoring that he had found him. Simmons started with his usual tricks to wake Grif up. He grab a cup of water and poured it onto him, kick his legs, held a donut up to his face, Simmons even tried to bribe Grif awake by whispering offers of treats into his ear. That last one was always a shoe in to work back in Blood Gulch. Eventually Simmons grew tired of even trying to wake up Grif anymore.

“I can’t believe you can even sleep at a time like this.” Simmons whispers as he surveys the room. He had ordered Doc to remain in the main hall. Chances were the medic was no longer there. Simmons found himself torn between going to make sure Doc had remained where he was ordered to, and staying here to wait for Grif to wake up. To him he had already spent more than enough time scoping the base out. No one else was here. Not even Caboose or Tucker. He was happy to find none of the blues and reds here, but his hopes were dashed at the fact he had found none of their team either.

Simmons sighs and takes a seat at the table. He really did not want to go walking around the base by himself anymore. He did not want to be alone in this base at all. He did not want to be back here at all in the first place.With an exhaustion he had been able to keep at bay until then Simmons rest his tired arms and head. It was then that he notice the empty coffee mug on the table. The same one Sarge always used. Slowly Simmons reaches for the old, grimy coffee cup. With a slight tip he could see the remanding grains of coffee resting coldly at the bottom. How long had it been there? How long since Sarge was able to sit down and just enjoy his drink? How long had it been since Simmons watched as the older man was shot down in front of him? He couldn’t remember. As he and Caboose ran he hadn’t kept track of the days, and he had purposely avoided the patch of grass outside that he knew the body would still be resting in. Unless someone had the good graces and time to bury him. He hadn’t. After Temple took that first shot at them. After the others started firing. Sarge was in disbelief but quickly he lept into action to defend his loyal men. Donut was too close to Cronut when the blues and reds turned on them. If Sarge hadn’t jumped in front of the boy as he fired, then maybe he would have been able to escape too, but that wasn’t how it played out. Simmons tries to keep his sobbing quiet as he remembers the bullets, the terror, the regret. It wasn’t just one bullet that took the man down. No, there was no mercy such as that on that field. True to his training he didn’t go down without a fight. Simmons was not sure when he finally stopped firing though. For Sarge had given them the command to run before then. Caboose had grabbed Simmons arm and when he had refused to acknowledge the blue, he had picked him up and carried him away. Jax screaming about the footage he got as Caboose held him on his other shoulder.

“-ey.” Someone was speaking to him now. “Hey Simmons are you okay?” That voice. It hadn’t been there during that fight, but it had been for all the others. Simmons remembers his very first firefight. Grif had been there too, with him, and all the others since then. It had always been them since that terrible day at training. “Simmons, whats wrong?” If Grif had been there would things have been different? Would Sarge be here, or would Grif be dead as well? “Simmons come on you gotta speak to me man.” Now Grif sounded concern. Simmons thought he heard fear in that voice but it was unlikely. The only thing that scared Grif was hard work.

Grif yanks off the other soldier’s helmet. His fears confirmed as he saw the pathetic face of his oldest friend. Tears and snot covering it, leaving trails down the parts of his face that still held skin. “Damnit.” Grif curses as he drops to his knee. He carefully places a hand on Simmons’ cheek, to hold the soldier’s face up. His other one quickly moves to his hands, taking away his weapons.

“Simmons.” Grif says calmly. He tries to relax his nerves and concern. He had seen this before. Been through it before. “Simmons. Come on buddy, you’re alright. It’s over. We are in the kitchen right now. I was taking a nap remember?” Grif tries to remind him what had happened in their most recent moments. In an attempt to bring him back to the present and steal him from the pass.

“S-sarge,” Simmons sobs. “Don-ut….Grif, gone.”

“Simmons I’m here. I’m here now. You’re gonna be okay. I promise you. We are going to be okay Simmons. No one is here to hurt us.” Slowly Simmon moves his own head. Timid, fear filled eyes meet Grif’s gentle, concerned ones.

“Grif,”

“Yeah Simmons. It’s me.” Grif replies quietly. His aim was to keep his voice quiet and soothing. It was what usually works for Simmons to calm him.

Simmons tears start anew and he begins to fall forward. Grif instantly raises himself to meet his friend half way. He holds the tired soldier in his arms. Allowing his head to rest against his neck. He could feel the tears falling down his neck, and farther down his skin, into his suit. He didn’t mind. Simmons had always been a terrible cryer, but so was Kai when she was a little girl. His protective instincts kick in. He gives his old friend a few spaced out, careful, solid squeezes. To make sure that he knew Grif was there. That Grif was real and he wasn’t going anywhere.

“I’ve got you.” He begins to chant. “I’ve got you now Simmons.” His friend did not reply to his words with anything but the faintest touch of his limp arms against Grif’s sides.


	7. Ruined Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grif can't keep his mouth shut even when that would be best.

“Hey, are you better now?” Grif asks the man after his shaking had finally stopped. His breathing was normalizing, his head was held still between Grif’s neck and shoulder. He chooses not to respond to Grif’s question. Yes he was better physically now than when Grif had found him, but no he was not better mentally. Even though he now had his body under his control again he could still see the scenes replaying in his mind. He hears Sarge’s orders just beyond Grif’s voice. A small comfort that just barely kept the worst of his thoughts away. Grif was always there, providing just small comforts, but that was more than he had ever done for the man. What had he ever done to help Grif? Unwillingly, and unknowingly given him parts of his body? That wasn’t his choice. Provided him some much needed stress relief after the war. That was induced by the tower’s effect. Not him. Drag him right back into the same senseless fight they were all tired of? Yeah that was a real kindness he had shown the man.

“I should have just let you quit.” Simmons whispers.

“What?” Grif asks, sounding surprised.

Simmons raises his head carefully. “I should have let you quit. I should not have asked you want you meant. I shouldn’t have wished you were back with us. I should not have gone looking for another you.” Simmons coughs. He only then realizes how dry his throat had become. “I was desperate.”

“Simmons stop.” Grif orders. His eyes were no longer comforting but stern. Simmons stares at him. At those eyes he had seen so many other times. Yet every time he just stops and stares it feels as if he had ever seen them at all.

“Grif,”

“No, stop. You don’t know what you are saying.” He states. His voice sounded higher than usual. Was he growing angry? Rushed? “Simmons you need to rest. If you get some water, maybe a bit of food, and some rest you will be feeling better. I know there has to be something here. Maybe we’ll be lucky and find some chicken noodle soup. I know you prefer that after an,” he sighs “experience.” He also knew that was the food his mother gave him anytime after Simmons had an unpleasant experience. Whether if it was from bullying at school, his dad trying to toughen him up, or even just the common cold. Simmons knows that Grif knew that because he told him.

Grif helps him stand. “I would call Doc in here to help you, but I know you don’t really wanna see him right now.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem buddy. THough I think I’ve earned a few free naps for helping you walk.” Grif jokes. Of course he had to ruin such a perfect moment.

“Ass.” Simmons shoves himself free of Grif’s arms.

Grif pouts. “Aw, come on Simmons.”

“I’ll find me some food.” Simmons states determinedly.

“Guess I’ll follow you then.” Grif says with a slight grin. The look on his stupid face causes heat to rush up to Simmons face. Curse him.

“G-good.” Simmons manages. He never did do well leading.


	8. Things are Getting Worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's not talk about it, okay.

They stayed at the base for a total of four days more. During that time Simmons spent his patrolling the lair. He tries to keep an eye out for any of the others, still hopeful that they may come back. Every hour that passed he would become crankier and anxious everyday until he finally allowed himself to rest. Then he would wake up and begin the cycle all over again.

Meanwhile Grif spent that time with Doc. Asking him what all had happened to the reds and blues. The man was mostly silent. Preferring to ask Grif questions about where he had been and how had he been doing. He was trying to avoid the subject but eventually he did crack. That was when Doc told him. The poor guy could not stop once he started. Changing his voice every so often Grif could tell that the side effects of O’Malley were still there. Even if he would cough and go back to normal. He ranted on and on for the entirety of the third day. About the reds and blues and how he hated them. About the blues and reds and how they didn’t deserve what they got. Grif honestly felt bad for him. Sure he was angry about what he had to say about SImmons but Grif could not bring himself to be mad about the rest. He had his reasons. THey were stupid, but he had them.

Once his ranting was done Grif offered him a hand. He walked the medic back to his room. “Ya know, if you had just said some of that sooner,”

“I have. None of you listened. Well Donut did, but that was moreso because we were both ignored.” Doc unlocks his door and Grif pauses.

“Are you sure that’s all?”

Doc follows Grif’s gaze. “I still haven’t found him.” Grif gives him a sidelong glance. “THat was the real reason I was out there. I hid here and no one found me, but I left because he hadn’t come back. I figured he left with the others but then I saw Simmons and Caboose in the desert. I ran the other way, and kept looking.”

“Doc you really don’t,”

He shrugs. “No I don’t. Just, if you find him,”

“Yeah I will.” Grif promises. “Try to get some rest Doc.” Grif suggests as the purple medic walks past the bed and straight to a pink covered wall. Grif watches as he picks a photograph from on the wall. “I’m sure he is fine.”

“No, but that’s okay. I caused this all anyways.” Doc states remorsefully.

“Are you going to be okay? By yourself I mean.”

“We are all alone at some point grif. Some of us are more alone than others, for longer. I’ll be fine.”

“Night Doc.”

“Goodnight Grif.”

That was the last thing they had said to each other. Yesterday was the fourth day and neither Grif nor Simmons spoke to the medic. Suspicion grew inside of Grif’s stomach. Alongside guilt and concern. So this morning he paid a visit to Doc’s quarters. Only to be met with the sight of the body hand from the ceiling light. Grif had sighed at the sight. He noticed the small photograph from yesterday that Doc had been holding. It was Doc, Donut, and Lopez’s head all sitting around a small farming patch. Grif recognized it. How could he not?

He broke the news to Simmons right after. Who was torn between crying and saying the fucker deserved it. Grif only says he was torn because Simmons was crying when he said the fucker deserved it. Grf was the one to cut him down and bury the body. Simmons helped him carry the body back up to ground level. He took off once Grif started digging.

* * *

Simmons did not ask for this. No he was sure he did not. Yes he was mad at Doc for his betrayal, but he did not want this. Now another one of them was gone, and this was starting to look like the end. Four full days they had spent here. No one else had made it back. It was time to go.

“Do you know of a way to get off the planet?” Simmons asks Grif once he grew the courage to go back.

Grif was lying on his back when Simmons got back. At first Simmons thought he was heaving but then the maroon soldier realizes his old friend was simply sleeping. His pushes Grif with his foot.

“Hey, Grif do you know how to get off the planet?” He asks again.

No answer.

He goes over and cups his hands into the water that surrounded the base. Running back over he drop the remaining portion from his hands onto Grif. That did not work. Okay, honestly he should have expected that to happen.

“Grif! Griiiiiif!” Simmons screams into Grif’s ears. He stirs a little.

“Fine I'm going for a walk. I hope you're alive and awake when I get back.”

“No.” Grif moans.

“What?”

“No don't go. I thought we were waiting for the others.” He states sleepily.

“They aren't coming Grif. They're gone. Can we please just go? Do you have a way off this planet?”

“Yes.” Grif pushes himself into a sitting up position. “I don't think we can go yet.” He looks away from Simmons.

“Why not?”

“We have to have a talk.” Grif states simply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is late because I was at Indy Popcon all weekend.


	9. I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confessions. They do not always go the way we want, and sometimes our loves do not react as we expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is getting posted early since I have been late on two chapters. 8, and 6 if I am remembering the latter correctly. So I hope this makes up for that.

“Do you know that I love you?” Simmons could feel his face heating up. Grif sighs and looks away. “I have for years. Even.back in Blood Gulch. When you were obsessed with pleasing Sarge. Even when you were willing to kill me at any order. It was hard. I thought maybe after Chorus you felt something too, but then,  you didn't want to talk about it. You did not want anyone knowing and it hurt Simmons. Enough so that, well I tried to move on.” Grif shakes his head. “It didn't work. He was so much like you, but he wasn't you.”

Really all Simmons could think was that Grif had chosen a very inopportune time to confess. Currently they were no more than twenty feet from the stone Simmons assumes Grif used to mark the grave. Why now? Why was he always such an idiot?

“I also needed to tell you that I have been hiding something from you.” What else is there? Simmons wonders. He was fighting back the beginnings of teardrops pin pricking his eyes. He did use to be willing to kill Grif. He had been so worried about pleasing his superior.

“I am working with the UNSC.” Simmons heard something crack.

“W-what?” Since when is what he wanted to ask.

“That's how I got here.” Grif explains staring at Simmons. Or his helmet was at least. Simmons could not see them but he felt sure that Grif’s eyes were only on him. Silence passes them by. One minute after another drags on as Grif waits for Simmons, and Simmons waits for Grif. One long minute after another.

“They wanted me to find out who was still alive and on the planet. They already have all of the blues and reds, well the remaining ones that live. They also have Donut, Lopez, Tucker, and the agents. Or the remains of some of them.”

“Wash,”

“Alive. Not in a stabilized condition yet from what I heard. Carolina is pulling through well enough last I heard. Tucker hasn't left their sides.”

“Then why,”

“Why was I sent? Well at first we only had the bodies of a few sim troopers. We needed the rest. Heat seekers don't work well on a desert, plus you all saw me as a friend. Or they had assumed you did, so I was sent. Found Tucker fairly easily. Then Donut found me.” Grif pauses. “You, Sarge, Doc, and Caboose were the last ones I needed to find.”

“So they know I'm with you. I'm guessing they will want to interrogate me?”

“They have a few questions.” Grif confirms. “But they don't know that I've found you yet. I told them about Doc. Not you.”

“Why?” What was Grif doing. He was going to get himself in trouble.

“I knew you didn't want to go yet. You wanted to find the others. You had been with Caboose. We found Doc pretty easily.” Grif shrugs. “I was hopeful.”

Grif pauses. Perhaps it was to allow Simmons to take it all in. To digest it on his own before hitting him with anything else. Though Simmons was unsure what else Grif could throw at him at this point.

“I can call them. Tell them I found you and you can leave, but I would not be able to go with you.”

“W-why not?” Simmons stutters.

“Because this was part of our deal. They stay in orbit for any extractions that may be necessary, but I have to search the planet alone. Once I leave the mission is over. Everyone not found will be written off as KIA or MIA.”

“Why just you?”

“I asked to go alone. I told them that you all wouldn't trust strangers, but me. Me you know. They were all too happy to not have to spend more manpower on this shit job.” Grif pulls out a cigarette. Carefully he rolls the cancer stick between his fingers.

“So if we both leave,”

“No one will look for Caboose.”

Silence envelopes them once more. Grif’s laughter breaks it. It was a hollow, repetitive noise.

“I can almost hear Sarge. ‘Well he is just a dirty blue.’ Though I guess I would like to think he would keep searching too. After everything that's happened to us all. Plus I promised Tucker I would find him.” Grif adds as an afterthought. It just shows that he didn't believe Sarge would actually stay and look for their blue comrade. If he had then he would not have to bring up Tucker to solidify his reasons.

Simmons sits still as he listens intently. He eyes the cigarette that was rolling between Grif’s fingers still. It had been a long while since Dexter Grif had, had a smoke. A very long time. Simmons was never sure why. Grif would mutter reasons such as not being able to find any, of them not being his brand, and etc. but Simmons knew he always kept a pack on his person. Simmons never called him out for his poor reasons. Yet as he watched the stick, Simmons grew worried. Was he returning to his old ways? Killing himself slowly, and painfully. Was that what they all had been doing all of these years?

“So do ya wanna go?” Grif asks, tearing Simmons from his thoughts.

“No.” He answers without hesitation. “Let's find Caboose. Then we can leave.” With those words Simmons stands. He felt stronger now. More determined than before.

Grif watches him with a wary eye. Perhaps the maroon soldier had not heard his first confession. Or maybe he just didn't feel the same. His lack of a reaction was enough to make Grif feel as if pushing the matter would simply be a lost cause. Grif lifts the cigarette to his face. He had not smoke since Simmons demanded that he did not destroy the former’s precious organs. They were Simmons. It was only fair. Grif sighs. Just another thing they shared.


	10. Kissing Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A girly named title but I don't think the guys (Grif and Simmons) mind. Also known as Grif pushes his luck.

Grif watches Simmons’ back as it moves up and down along with his steps. The heavy armor on such a scrawny body. The image the thought conjures in his mind was almost comical. 

“You're being awfully silent.” Grif comments.

“I'm a bit…. lost in my thoughts I guess.”

It was most likely about what Grif had said earlier.

“I was thinking,” Simmons begins. They pause their walking. Simmons gave himself a half turn so that it was not just his back that Grif was stuck looking at. “What if Caboose goes back? Maybe one of us should stay back and wait for him.”

“No.” Grif says point blank.

“Uh, bad idea I guess.” Simmons coughs into his hand.

“It is. How would we reach each other if one of us did go back and he shows up?”

“I mean you found me once.”

“Oh okay.” He wants some space. To be alone that was why he wants to split up. Not because of Caboose. Grif scratches his neck. “Listen if you don't want me around or if ya need some space, I get it. I'll give you some. I'll stand a few feet back from you. You don't even need to talk to me. I can't let you go off on your own completely. I need to keep you in my sights.”

“Why? Since it's your job to watch me now?” Simmons’ voice sounds bitter. Grif chooses to ignore the slight pain he felt in his chest.

“Simmons I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't care. I was looking for you even before the UNSC contacted me. Why is it so hard for you to accept the fact that I genuinely care for you?”

“Because Grif there if nothing genuine about any of us. There is nothing real. We were all used, manipulated, and cheated.”

“Just cause we're broken does not mean we aren't genuine. I know I am, and I know that my feelings are too. But then again I guess between the two of us you were the one who was always unsure.” Grif adds angrily.

“How can you say that?!” Simmons asks, shouting, as he stands indignantly while Grif walks past him. “Would you stop so we can talk about this?” He asks trying to hide his exasperation. Grif knew that tone well. Especially whenever Sarge would start to go on one of his ridiculous tangents.

“Donut would have a field day right now. Us, talking about emotions and feelings.”

“H-how was he doing when you saw him last?” Simmons asks stuttering out of worry and the fact that he knew he was taking the cheap excuse to change the subject.

Grif wasn't sure how he felt about the Donut he saw last. “He was worried. Doc and the others were still gone. He wasn't making as many double-entendres. He wasn't smiling either. Ya know, he has scars. He says they are nothing but I guess all those times he was nearly killed did leave some wounds.” Grif breathes out. “We all have scars though.”

“Grif, I d-do care for you. I just, we just, it wouldn't work. We are too different.” Grif wasn't sure if Simmons actually believed those words or not. The orange soldier wasn't going to give up though. Not yet, not after all this time of pining in secret.

“Simmons,” Grif starts lifting his helmet. “take your helmet off.”

He complies without asking why. Gruf approaches him slowly. Carefully Grif cups his gloved hand over Simmons cheek. “If you want me to stop then say so and I will. If you believe that we could be friends all these years despite our differences and not more then stop me right now. I want to kiss you. I don't think I can ever stop caring for you the way I do. I haven't been able to after all these years after all. Yet, if you want someone else then, “ he slowly brings his lips closer to Simmons’. “then stop me.”

Simmons didn't and Grif felt relief wash over him as their lips meet. He doesn't use his tongue the way he knows Simmons likes him too. Grif didn't want to chance his luck more than he was already.


	11. Shouting. Just a Lot of Shouting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grif and Simmons face the aftermath of the kiss. Could it be? FEELINGS? *Gasp* No.

For Grif to say that the kiss made things a mess between him and Simmons would be wrong. The situation had already been a mess between them. The fact that the kiss ended with him smiling sadly expecting Simmons to push him away after; Only to have Simmons grabs his arms and kiss him again, well that was a happy surprise. They were kissing and this time there was no Sarge they had to hurry to report back to, their was no drinking or late night partying involved, no temple of sex magic activated to increase their urges.

It was just him and just SImmons. Just orange and maroon. He giggles and Simmons pulls away quickly.

“W-what’s so funny?” He looks hurt, offended, but grif knew he was just nervous.

“I never thought you would kiss me back.” Grif admits with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Ah, don’t think too much of it!” Simmons shouts.

Grif’s face fall. “Oh, okay. No problem I won’t.” He turns his back to Simmons and begins to storm away.

“Grif! Wait, Grif! I didn’t mean it like that.” Simmons pleads.

“Then how did you mean it?” Grif shouts throwing his arms up. “I’ve told you everything Simmons! I have been nothing but honest. Forgive a man for taking a chance, and then you got my hopes up because you kissed me back. I thought you felt the same, but since I’m not suppose to think too much about it then I guess I won’t think about it at all!” He doubles over, resting his hands on his knees to keep himself up.

“Grif,” Simmons whimpers placing a hand on the orange armor clad, soldier.

Grif pushes his hand away. “I saw the videos. They were recording everything you guys did for security purposes. The UNSC has the videos. I saw everything that happened before they went out. You kept talking about me. Even Sarge asked where their Grif was. I thought maybe you all really did care, and I missed you more than I would care to admit now.”

“Grif I do care. I just,” The lazy man raises his hand to stop Simmons.

“I think we just need to stop talking for now. Once I catch my breath we’ll find Caboose. I will contact the UNSC and then my job is done.”

Simmons slips his helmet back on so Grif would not see the concern in his eyes. It bothered him, how worried he was if he had actually hurt Grif. They had been hurting Grif for years. None of them cared, why was he feeling guilt now? Simmons grows frustrated with the pain in his chest and the feelings he was experiencing.

The walked in silence for a few miles before hearing shouting. Simmons was quick to react, his gun aimed in the direction he thought the sound was coming from. Grif was tossing his head back and forth, not even bothering with the giant weapon on his back let alone the ones on his hips.

They stand frozen in place until there was more shouting.

“This way.” Grif orders charging full head in the direction of the sound.

“What? Why?” Simmons questions, falling into step beside Grif.

“That sounds like Caboose.”

“Why would Caboose be shouting i the middle of nowhere?” Simmons questions. The two look at each other. Helmets covering the look Simmons thought they were sharing.

“Yeah, you’re right. Dumb question.” Simmons admits.

“Hey!” That voice was definitely Caboose, but Grif saw him no where as he looks across the desert. “Stop!” Was he in danger? Who was he telling to stop?

“Grif!” Simmons calls out. Grif gradually comes to a stop in his running. Or what you could call running for him.

“What is it Simmons?” Grif asks turning around to see Simmons leaning over, looking down.

“We’ve got a problem.”

“What is it?”

“Come look.” Simmons motions him over with a hand. His gaze never moves from whatever was on the ground he was staring at.

“Simmons what could possibly so interesting about sand?” Grif asks huffing as he came along.

“It isn’t just sand. See?” Grif leans over to see what Simmons saw. There wasn’t just more sand in front of them. There was a huge cliff, covered in sand. So much so that it just seemed like it was all part of the endless desert. Grif suddenly felt grateful that he had not walked in this direction before. If he had he would have fallen straight down to clif all the way to the bottom before anyone could have done anything to save him.

“Simmons! I knew I would find you again.”

That voice Grif knew it. His heart skips a beat as relief floods his nerves. Quickly looks down to spy a small shape of blue at the bottom of the cliff.

“Grif! You’re up there too! I’ve found you guys! Yay!” He cheered, jumping up and down as he waves his arms about. “Don’t worry guys I’ll save you!” Caboose says as reassurance. “Somehow.” He adds. Grif smiles as Simmons chuckles.

“I think you are the one that needs saving buddy.” Grif calls back down.

“What?”

Grif cups his hands around his mouth. “Just stay there Caboose! Someone is coming to get us! All of us!”

“Is Tucker with you?”

Grif hesitates. “No, but he’s waiting for us. Don’t worry Caboose, you’ll see him soon!”

Simmons sits down in the sand next to Grif. “How are we gonna get him up here?”

“We aren’t?”

Simmons looks back and forth between the two. “What are you going to do?” He asks as Caboose kept shouting up at them about the new friend he had.

“I’m working with the UNSC remember? All I have to do is call them and explain that I have everyone. They’ll find a way to get Caboose out from down there.”

“How do you think he got down there?” Simmons asks leaning his body over the edge a little in order to glance down.

“Who knows? Maybe he slid down the cliff, or he just fell. He is the strongest person i’ve ever met. So he could have climbed down for all I know. Or there is a way down and he walked all the way down there.” Grif offers up his few ideas as he decides to sit as well. He lets his legs dangle over the edge freely.

“Yeah.” Simmons agree his mind travelling elsewhere.

Grif watches him. Simmons fingers were twitching, and he was just staring off into the distance. Grif begins to wonder if there was something on his mind when Simmons finally spoke.

“So does that mean this is done?”

Grif shrugs. “I found everyone. Everyone still alive that is. My part is over. The UNSC will retract all of their forces within orbit after extraction. They will no doubt have questions for you guys. Not sure how long that will take or what they’ll decide to do after.”

“Grif that’s not what I,” Simmons grunts. Arms failing to his head as he groans. “Listen what I mean is, well is that all? You know, with us?”

“With us?” Grif asks growing a little upset. “What us Simmons? I think you’ve made it pretty clear how you feel.”

“Grif,”

“Stop talking. Please. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” To show that he really was done Grif opens up his communication. It did not take long for him to reach the commanding officer and inform her on their whereabouts. ETA was forty minutes. Grif swears in his head wishing it would be less. He wasn’t sure if he could last that long here.

The silence lasted for about thirty two minutes. The longest a silence had ever sat between them.

“Years?” Simmons tosses the question into the air.

“Years.” Grif admits.

“W-why didn’t you say anything?”

“Well that time we spent in the shade I had thought made it clear.” He answers spitefully. “How was I supposed to tell you I like you when I didn’t even know if you liked men. So I figure if I made you a proposition to help us both blow off some steam or entertainment it would reveal if you did or not. You didn’t take the bait, not really.”

“Then the temple.”

“The door was locked. I didn’t lock it though.” Grif states in his defense.

“I know you didn’t.” Simmons says smugly.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah Sarge did. He came up to me afterwards and asked me why you weren’t dead. Said that was the whole reason he had locked us in there.”

Grif groans. He squeezes his head with his arms. “I did not need to know that.”

“What?”

“That the first time we had, ugh was because of Sarge.”

Simmons laughs. “I guess it is just something I’m going to have to thank him for later.” Simmons replies before he remembers. “Oh, nevermind I guess.”

“Oh yeah.” Grif says as he remembers the news. “You would thank him?” Confusion hits him.

“Yeah I would.” Simmons answers.

“Guys! Look! Birds!” Caboose is shouting as he points off towards the sky.

“Those aren’t birds Caboose! It’s a rescue!” Simmons informs him as the UNSC helicopters come in closer.

“We’re saved?”

Simmons nods before realizing Caboose probably couldn’t see the movement. “Yes Caboose! We are saved!”

The scream of joy that tore from the blue’s throat was one Grif had never heard him make before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long. Honestly for a long while I was just not in the mood to write this story after the loss of my grandmother, and then the move onto my college campus. I kept pushing it of due to my own feelings and I knew I could no longer do that to you all. So I am sorry and here is the belated chapter. The last one will be released next week.


	12. New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This will be the final chapter. By far it is the longest. Thank you all for reading this story and giving your support. So I hope you all enjoyed this story and that you'll read many more wonderful stories in the future.

The pickup was quick and went well enough. One Caboose was calmed down it all went much smoother. He kept insisting that they couldn’t leave Church behind. That Church was his best friend, and kept him safe when he had lost Simmons. They tried to calm him down with promises of candy and cookies as Grif had suggested but it only made Caboose more hyper.

“Let me talk to him.” Simmons had interrupted when he thought the whole process was taking far too long.

He leant in and whispered a few words into Caboose’s ear. Whatever it was he had said was unbeknownst to Griff, but it was enough to get the hyperactive survivor into the helicopter calmly enough. Simmons sat between Grif and Caboose. The blue was still rambling about his desert adventure. Grif didn’t want to laugh but the poor guy kept saying dessert instead of desert. So a few snickers slipped out during the ride. Earning him a look of disappointment from Simmons.

“Can you please be serious for once?” The maroon soldiers asks before he returns to his conversation with Caboose.

Griff sighs before grumbling under his breath about how he had been serious during this whole crazy mission. Looking around the helicopter he notices that many of the people inside it with them were people whom he had spoken to before starting the mission. The man in front of him Griff could not remember the name of, but he remembers how the man told them all it would be a failure of a mission. That all the reds and blues were most likely dead and the task was a waste of money. Griff had to go to great lengths to ensure the mission was still carried out, and now he was even happier he had. For Simmons was back, Caboose was safe, Washington and Carolina were being treated for their injuries, Tucker was with them, and Donut was alive. As annoying as ever, but still alive. His mission was a success and they were all going to go home now. After all these years, him and Kai would see Earth again.

“We’re here. Load out.” One of the commanding officers instruct as the remaining reds and blues are ushered out of the helicopter. Before them was a large spaceship that was twice the size of any they had ever been on. Standing on the landing was a man with a kind smile and fat face. His hair was grey and balding but his tanned skin made up for the feature of his receding hair.

“Dexter Grif, I see your mission was a success. Congratulations, and I’m sorry about your field medic. That boy, Franklin Delano has already been told. I’m afraid he is not taking it well. Has requested a whole list of itemized decorations all of pink and purple to have up on his wall. Insist they be called lightish red.”

“Donut?” Simmons asks having forgotten Donut’s first and middle name.

The man looks him with curiosity. “Yes Franklin Donut. It sounds preposterous so I have been referring to him as Delano. He hasn’t seemed to mind during our talks.”

“Has he revealed any new information?” Grif asks sounding completely serious.

“Well ye he has, but we can discuss that later Mr. Grif. For now your sister is on the bridge waiting to speak with you. She arrived on our ship while you were gone. We granted her restricted access as we awaited you. I would recommend you see her first. I will have some of the other men take these two to their rooms.”

“Thank you General Ruble.” Grif sounds overly formal as he speaks to the general with a sort of respect Simmons had never heard him use before. He didn’t know. Simmons would never know that the reason Grif is so civil with the man before him is because he was an optimal instrument in getting this mission approved. “I will go see my sister now.” No doubt Kai would have already caused trouble if she was here for who knew how many days already.

He looks back one last time at Simmons and Caboose. With a shake of his head he turns back around and hugs the blue. Before offering the red some advice. “Don’t argue, and don’t be stubborn. He’ll ask you two questions and as long as you take him seriously and answer them honestly you’ll be done before you know it. I was.”

He lets go of Caboose and walks away. Shadows darken his orange armor to an almost golden color as he makes his way through the lower half of the ship. He was thankful for the elevator that took him up to the bridge because honestly even before being in that desert for so long the stairs on this thing would have killed him.

She was there alright. As soon as the doors opened to the bridge Kai was in the middle of it, regaling some of the crew with stories of her absurdity. She stops as soon as her eyes land on Grif though.

“Big brother!” She runs over to him with the excitement of a kid.

“Hey there Kai.” He replies trying to sound indifferent.

“You scared me! One moment we are talking and the next you’re gone with some lame excuse.”

“Lame excuse! Sis my ears were literally starting to bleed from the parties you were throwing every night. I really had to go to the doctor’s!”

“Bullshit. We both know you wouldn’t go to a hospital.”

Grif sighs. “Kai,”

“Shut up.” She squeezes him with a hug. “I missed you. I didn’t want to be left alone in that place again.”

“You weren’t alone, you had your friends.”

“They leave before dawn and only ever come back for the parties. I literally would spend the entire day by myself and it’s no fun when you guys aren’t there.” She admits sounding annoyed.

“Well my job’s done. ‘Grif begins scratching his neck. “If you want, we could go home. Back to Earth.”

“Meh, Earth is boring. Let’s go to Chorus. I heard you guys know how to have fun there.” Sis suggests sounding eager.

Grif sighs. “We’ll talk about it later. Right now I need a snack and a nap.” He promises before backing out of the conversation in search for food.

“Hey did you ever find that science guy? The dude who was half robot?”

Grif tenses up. “Yeah I found him.”

“Well did you tell him? Was he alive? Does he know you use to cry yourself to sleep over him? Ooooh is he here?”

“Kaikaina stop!” Grif demands as he rubs his head. “Listen he is alive, he is here, I don’t know where he is here, and I don’t care. Now if you shut up I will buy you lunch as soon as we make it back to a planet with a store. Anything you want.”

“Deal.” She beams a smile at him before motioning to seal her lips.

“Thank you. Now I’m going to need at least a twelve hour long nap.”

“Before you do that the General needs to speak with you sir.” A random private approaches the siblings.

Grif gives him a questioning look.

“He says he needs you in the interrogation rooms now.”

“Alright, but i’m grabbing a cookie first. I’m starving.”

“I would go right now sir. It is about the red and blue you brought back with you.” The private explains sounding uncertain.

“Alright, I’m going. Which room is he in?”

“He’ll be standing right outside it, waiting for you.”

“Raincheck brother, sounds like you have work. I’ll save you a plate.” Kai calls as she takes off for the stairs.

Grif follows the private down to the base level of the ship. He leads him down a hallway that Grif knew well. In the first room on his left would be where Tucker was sleeping. The second on his right was Donut’s room. He wonders if Doc would have been placed near him. Donut would have like to have him close by. In the medbay area was where Carolina and Washington were sleeping, recuperating. The third down the hall was on his left it was suppose to be Sarge’s until recently. It was the most anti-idiot room they had or so they had assured him.

In front of the seventh room on the right side was the General leaning against the door. A cigarette between his lips. It wasn’t light, but all the same watching the man roll it back and forth in his mouth reminds Grif how long it had been since his last cigarette.

“Simmons is being cooperative. Much more than I expected. Your friend Caboose makes about as much sense as a talking train though.”

“Is that a reference or a pun?” Grif asks.

The general shrugs. “Neither, both, either or. Want one?” The older man offers one from his pack.

“Nah, I don’t smoke anymore.”

“Really? I’ve been trying to quit for years. I don’t smoke down here, but once I’m in my private quarters. No one can complain to me about it then.” He says with a sort of levity in his voice. “Why’d you quit?”

Grif hesitates before realizing it didn’t matter anymore. Who cared who knew. “A friend wanted me to quit. Said it was unfair to him and if I cared I would quit. Or some shit like that.”

“Wow you have willpower kid. I couldn’t do it.”

“Well I was stuck in plenty of places that just didn’t have cigarettes available either. So that probably helped me.” Grif says deflecting the compliment. “What is it you needed? Sir.”

“Do you think you could make sense of what the blue one is saying? We’re pretty sure we have everything we need, but I would like to make sure we aren’t missing anything that could bite us in our asses later.”

“I can try, but the guy doesn’t make sense half of the time.”

“All I asked.” The General says letting Grif into the room.

“Grif!” Caboose shouts with excitement. He jumps off his bed and runs over to him.

“Hey Caboose. What’s going on man?” Grif asks sitting backwards in the lone chair.

“I was just telling the man about Church. How he is my best friend and a ghost now. We went there looking for him you know, and I found him. See there was another me there and he showed me Church and then I said goodbye and he disappeared and I got lost in an explosion with Simmons. Then I heard Tucker screaming so I ran after him, but Simmons didn’t follow me like I thought he did, and I was lost and alone. So I walked until I saw Andy. SO I followed andy who just kept rolling away from me until I ended up running into a cliff. Oh and I saw Doc too he ran from me so I just kept following Andy. The mountain hurt.”

“Andy? The bomb?”

“Yeah, but he wasn’t black this time. He was brown and there were a lot of holes in them. Oh and he wasn’t talking. But he kept whistling at me. I tried picking him up but he wa brittle and I accidently broke a part of him off. See, I still have it.” Caboose pulls out a piece of brown plant.

“Caboose that wasn’t Andy. It was a tumbleweed, but now it explains who Simmons and I heard you talking to.” Grif groans. “Alright is that everything Caboose.”

“I miss Church, but at least I got to say goodbye.” Caboose answers sadly. Honestly it struck a chord in Grif.

“I know Caboose, but don’t worry. The rest of us aren’t going anywhere buddy.”

“Where’s Tucker? They said Tucker was here, and the others. Everyone is okay?” Caboose asks innocently.

“No Caboose. Sarge and Doc are gone. Just like Church. Washington and Carolina were injured but they are getting better at least. Ticker, Donut, Simmons, and parts of Lopez are here though.” Grif explains wishing he could leave. He didn’t want to tell Caboose this. Why was this his job?

“Oh.” Caboose says sadly. He looks towards the empty wall, thoughtful. “Are we going to jail? The men here they use to shoot at us.”

“We aren’t going to jail Caboose. They just had some questions. Once they have answers we all get to go home.”

“Where’s that?” Caboose asks mournfully his voice catching. “Chorus? Earth? Blood gulch? What even is home anymore, if we aren’t all there?” He asks growng upset.

“I don’t know buddy. Wish I could tell ya something but I don’t know.” I don’t even know who I am and where I stand in this whole scheme of things. Grif wants to voice his doubts, his confusion, but he holds his tongue. It would only confuse poor Caboose more.

“I think you should talk to Simmons.” Caboose adds in the silence. “He missed you.”

“No one misses me Caboose. It doesn’t happen.” Grif replies morbidly.

“Maybe you just don’t know they do. How can you know if you aren’t near. If people miss those who aren’t near them then how can the people they miss know they are being missed. It seems stupid to me. How people can people know they are missed if they never ask? Red team missed you even Sarge missed you. He just didn’t want to say it. Simmons didn’t either.”

“How do you know then? If they don’t say they miss you how do you know?”

“They talk about you, and other people tell you. I miss Church but I told him. You missed red team didn’t you?”

“Yes?” Grif answers the question with a question. Did he miss red team. Alright so he missed his teammates, he guessed but not red team. Red team was stupid. Simmons, and Sarge were not so stupid he guessed.

“They talked about you a lot. That’s how I know they missed you. You should talk to them. I bet they miss Sarge too, Simmons and Donut.”

Sighing in defeat Grif stands. “I’ll talk to them, but you should get some rest. I’m sure Tucker will stop by later. He was worried about you too.”

“Tucker isn’t fun like Church. I use to hate him, but he isn’t so bad. Anymore.” Caboose admits remembering how Tucker tried to protect him.

“Yeah he’s grown too.” Grif agrees. Everyone seems to have matured, and somehow the thought made him depressed. “I gotta go now Caboose. Later man.”

“Bye Grif.”

With an exhausted sigh Grif explains to the General what all he was able to get from Caboose. The man had more questions then answer so Grif was stuck there until he had answered them all. Even having to go as far back and explain, Andy, Sheila, and Texas at one point. The General then gave him permission to visit the other reds and to tell Tucker if he promises to behave and not attempt an escape again he could visit Caboose. The fact that the idiot still did not believe the UNSC was trying to help them all did not surprise Grif. He had been betrayed too many times by too many people at this point.

There were rules just as there was when he first came onto the ship. There were always rules. For everyone and everywhere. Honestly what was the point? He stands outside the door that held Simmons. He could hear the quiet humming on the man behind the door. Was he angry, nervous, scared, sad, or maybe none of those things. Did he want to see Grif? What was the point in going in there? Because he can’t come out? They’ve already said all they had to say, but then Simmons said he would thank Sarge. Why had he said that? Damn it all this thinking is just freaking him out. Grif headbutts the wall a few times as an attempt to clear his thoughts.

“Hello?”

Fuck had that been on the door. Shit, it was.

“Is someone there?” Anticipatory. That’s how Simmons sounded. He was anticipating something.

“It’s just me.” Grif replies as he opens the door. “Just finished talking to Caboose.”

“How is he?”

“Shaken, but no more than anyone else had been when they came.” Grif answers looking around. “Care if I sit?”

Simmons straightens his back up against the wall. He brings his legs up to his knees as he sits by the head of his bed. He gestures towards the chair but Grif ignores it, choosing to sit on the edge of the bed. He stares at his hands and the floor. Casting his eyes everywhere but Simmons.

“So how was interrogations?” Grif asks as a conversation started.

“Not bad as far as interrogations go. Chorus was worse.” Simmons jokes.

“We were respected captains on Chorus.” Grif retorts.

“Not on the federal side.” They laugh.

“Caboose said I should come visit you.”

“Why would he say that?” Simmons asks his tone going an octave higher.

Grif shrugs. “Said something about you missing me while I was gone or some shit.” Silence. Grif wasn’t sure how to bring the conversation back around or what to say next. So one last attempt. His comment before about Sarge replaying in Grif’s head. “Simmons, who am I,” Grif begins.

“Again with that question Grif,”

“Too you?” Grif finishes.

“Oh.” Simmons looks away. Grif watches as a red blush creeps into his cheeks. Pulling off his own helmet he sets it next to Simmons’.

“Well you’re my partner I guess, and the one person I still know from basic, you are the wise-ass who always somehow gets me in trouble. The man with half my body for his, who always has my back even against Sarge, the guy who saved my ass, and my oldest friend. You are Grif. My Grif. I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

“I guess that pretty much answers it.” Grif replies with a smile.

“I do care about you. I just, how am I supposed to say it?”

“Actions are pretty good, the words I care for you are good too.” Grif jokes. “Did you guys really miss me?”

“It was weird with you not being around. So yeah, we missed you. Even Sarge but you know Sarge. Kept looking around for you to shoot at, or insult. When he found out there was no other Grif he said it was a dreamland, but he got bored. Pretty quick.” He chuckles. “We all missed you Grif. Even the blues. I’m glad you’re back.”

“Thanks Simmons.”

“Hey, are we gonna be okay?”

“I’m not sure about Donut. I have to go talk to him next. Tucker is angry, but he is a little more normal now that he’s seen Caboose. They’re talking right now. Wash and Carolina have gotten the all-clear. Kai is here. I made a suggestion that we go back to Earth. She didn’t like that idea.” Grif laughs. “So I guess it would be wherever we land again.”

“Sounds about right, but I meant us.” Simmons clarifies.

“I think so, but that’s up to you. We can go back to what we were, or we can try something new.”

“New sounds nice. I think we all need something new.” Simmons smiles no longer hiding the blush in his cheek.

“Yeah. New does sound nice.” Grif agrees reaching over towards Simmons. The soldier meets him halfway. Another kiss, this one not as chaste. Simmons took the lead, deepening it as he placed a hand on the back of Grif’s neck. When they separate Simmons smiles humbly.

“Yeah new sounds perfect.”


End file.
